


July Sun

by aphelios



Series: tuckerwash domestic au [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Demisexuality, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphelios/pseuds/aphelios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place 3 months into their relationship, Tucker and Wash discuss old relationships and Wash's connection to Project Freelancer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	July Sun

“Can I ask you something personal?” Tucker asked. It was the beginning of July, and Wash and Tucker were laying on a patch of soft grass in a park near Washington’s apartment. Each of them lay with their heads on the other’s shoulder, as a sort of pillow. The sun was warm on their faces, and Tucker could smell the sunscreen Wash had lathered on his face to keep himself from burning. Tucker knew he would get red anyway, as he always did. Wash’s sun resistance game was weak, in Tucker’s humble opinion, but the man loved the outdoors anyway.

“Shoot,” Wash replied casually.

“You’re demisexual, right? And you aren’t attracted to me in a sexual way, but have you ever been? Attracted to someone, I mean.”

“I-- is a park really the place to talk about this?”

Tucker sat up, hearing Wash’s head make a dull thud as it fell from Tucker’s shoulder to the ground. The blonde mumbled something that sounded like, “Alright, ow.” but Tucker ignored him in favor of scouting the park.

“The closest person is by that tree, and that tree’s not close.”

“What a great reference to use for distance, ‘that tree’, which I can totally see. From my position on the ground. Looking up at the sky. The sky without trees.”

“You’re gonna choke on that sarcasm one day,” Tucker replied as he flicked him lightly in the shoulder.

“Yes, the sarcasm,” Wash smirked. “The sarcasm that has a physical form and is thus something I can choke on.”

Tucker leaned down and kissed his lips. “Fuck you, dude.” He said softly as he rested his forehead against Wash’s. They stayed like that for a moment, listening to the birds and enjoying the sun. Tucker sat up straight when Wash cleared his throat, and moved so that he was sitting up, too.

“That tree, huh?” He asked mildly, nodding his head in the direction of a large oak. Tucker hummed in response, so Wash continued. “I guess it’s alright then. To answer your question, yes, I have been sexually attracted to someone before. Why?”

“I dunno, just curious.” Tucker shrugged. “I’ve just been wondering lately. At first I was like, it’s none of my business, so I didn’t ask, y’know? And then I was like, it’s still none of my business, ‘cause we’re not together like that, so--”

“Does that bother you?” Wash interrupted.

“Does what bother me?”

“That we’re not together. ‘Like that.’”

“No, of course not.” Tucker started, shaking his head. “I mean, of course I love sex, and yeah, sure I miss it, but I’d rather have you, and be with you, because I mean I love you and stuff, and well, there’s always my hand, so--”

“What?” Wash interrupted again, feeling butterflies take over as a small smile began to grow on his lips. “Say that again.”

“There’s… always my hand…?” Tucker trailed, confused and squinting at the man.

“No, the other thing.”

“Other thing?” He asked. “Dude, do you actually think I listen to myself speak? Because if you do, you’re wrong. What did I say?”

Wash began to full on beam. “You love me.”

Tucker’s dark skin hid his growing blush. “Oh, uh,” he laughed nervously, fingers playing with his dreads. “Did I say that? I meant, um, I meant to tell you later. When, um,” he coughed, “when the time was right.”

Washington laughed. “When would the time be right?”

“Now, apparently.” Tucker smiled sheepishly, and began to pick some grass.

“I love you, too.”

Tucker threw a handful of dirt and grass at him. “God, you’re so embarrassing.”

Wash brushed off his shirt with a snort, and when he glanced up at Tucker, he had to just stare for a moment. His eyes were a dark brown, and when the light hit them at just the right angle, they were a shade brighter than chamoisee brown, and had amazing streaks and flecks of gold. He had a few scars on his face, and Wash had kissed them all at some point or another. Tucker had tried to do the same with his freckles, but it resulted in a blushing Wash sitting still as Tucker kissed the same spot thirteen times and complained about how “they’re cute, but they’re a pain in the ass to smooch.”

“What are you looking at?” Tucker asked softly, pulling Wash out of the memory. 

“Nothing,” Wash sighed, content, and then shifted a bit. “So, you were asking about my sex life?”

“Actually I think I was explaining why I was asking about your sex life.”

“I thought you didn’t listen to yourself speak.”

“You know what man,” he tried to look upset, but there was affection in his voice that made his words sound out of place. “When I want your input I’ll fucking ask for it, thanks.”

Wash rolled his eyes. “Was there something you wanted to know?”

“Yeah, actually.” Tucker laid back on the ground and stretched as hard as he could before relaxing completely, crossing his arms behind his head. “What was this person like? Who you were with, I mean.”

“We were friends before anything else,” Wash began. “He was really cool and I loved hanging out with him. He was like seven feet tall. I met him when I was working with The Project.”

“Ah, The Project,” Tucker mused. Wash very rarely mentioned The Project, and when he did, he avoided details as best he could. Tucker wasn’t sure, but he was almost certain that whatever went down was 100% illegal. “So he was one of your freelance buddies.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Washington nodded. “Maine was… he was really great in the beginning. He got into a, um, accident” --Wash spat the word like it was poison-- “and he lost his ability to speak. He began to learn sign language. The rest of us, we were learning it, too, but the Director told us we had better things to focus on, and he brought in this new guy, Sigma, to be Maine’s translator.”

Tucker could feel Wash’s anger grow with every word, see his face get a little red, watched his hands make fists. “It was fucking bullshit. Maine taught me sign language anyway so that we could communicate without this guy always there. It worked, but Maine started to change. Sigma, he wasn’t a good person. We all had our concerns, but the Director was very insistent that he stick around, so he did. He and Maine spoke all the time, and none of us could understand it. When he would speak for Maine, everything sounded twisted and corrupt. Maine became angry, and hostile.

“It was fucked up, too, because I mean, I knew he was changing, knew Sigma had something to do with it, but I stayed with him anyway. I didn’t want to confront him, or even really confront it myself, I guess. I stuck around and defended him, and when he needed help with things I was always there for him. No matter how fucked up said things were, but that’s a different story.”

He took a moment to calm himself, and Tucker started to regret asking. Nevertheless, Wash continued. “We ended up getting into a lot of trouble, Maine and I. I trusted him too much, and he informed me too little of what I was actually helping him do. I’m not going to go into details, but I ended up spending a night in a jail cell because of him. Carolina had to bail me out. I’m pretty sure I still owe her for that, actually.”

Tucker stared up at the clouds, processing everything he had been told. Absentmindedly, he offered, “Well I certainly never expected you to have a record.” And then he pursed his lips, thought about all of the things he knew about Project Freelancer, which wasn’t a lot, and reconsidered. “Actually, you know what, I shouldn’t be surprised. I bet all you freelancers have records.”

Wash shrugged. “Some, but that may or may not be directly related to The Project. There’s no way to prove it even if it were; the Director would have made sure of that if any of the freelancers were to somehow find themselves in, say, prison, for one reason or another.”

“That’s fucked up,” Tucker said.

“That’s The Project.” Washington shrugged again. “I never saw Maine after that night. He went MIA. Nobody knows if he’s even alive, but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he wasn’t.”

“That’s fucking dark, dude.” Tucker pushed himself up on his elbows and held Wash’s gaze. “Promise me that if we ever break up, you’ll talk about me in a more positive light.”

Wash huffed through his nose, and leant forward to kiss Tucker lightly. “Promise not to get me stuck in jail and we have a deal.”

“That sounds fair,” Tucker agreed as he lowered himself back to the ground and got comfortable. “Maine doesn’t sound like too great of guy.”

“He was amazing before he was assigned Sigma.” Wash sighed.

“Do you miss him?”

“A part of me will always miss him,” Wash said as he lay beside Tucker and looked at the clouds. “But he’s not Maine anymore. Sigma… Sigma started calling him The Meta. I guess it kind of stuck around. Maine and The Meta are two very different people. The Meta is dangerous, whereas Maine knew how to kill a guy in seven different ways with only his bare hands, but he was also gentle, and kind.”

Tucker turned his head toward Washington, feeling a little bit of fear mixed in with excitement. “Do you know how to kill a guy in seven different ways using only your bare hands?”

“No,” Wash said, and Tucker felt a bit of relief, but then, “I only know five ways. The Project fell apart before I could learn the other two.”

“Holy shit.”

“Actually, I… probably shouldn’t have told you that.” Wash mused aloud. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Freelancer business is supposed to stay as quiet as we can keep it, even with The Project over. A lot of people could spend the rest of their lives in prison for some shit, or worse..”

“Oh my god,” Tucker whispered. “Oh my god.”

“Not-- not that I’m one of those people!” Wash hurried to try and erase whatever Tucker thought about him, although it was a complete lie, because he actually was one of those people. And that thing with Maine wasn’t the first time he had been put in a holding cell, but Freelancer business is Freelancer business and he’s already told Tucker far too much.

“Don’t lie to me, dude,” Tucker sat up. “You totally are. You are one those people.”

“I-- uh. Hm.” Wash rubbed at his forehead, and shut his eyes tight. He fucked up. He’s always been told to watch his mouth, and think when he speaks. Apparently, he still hasn’t learned his lesson. “Does this change anything?”

“No,” Tucker said, much to his surprise. “I mean, as long as you’re, y’know, okay, then we’re fine. I’ve known you for a while, and you haven’t really put up any red flags, so.”

“Everything I just told you didn’t count as red flags?”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong, they totally do.” Tucker flashed him a dazzling smile. “I’m a little bit afraid of you, and you could absolutely take me in a fight, but I know that you wouldn’t ever hurt me, so just let me process this whole thing where you know how to kill people and probably have killed people and then we’ll be good.”

“What?” Wash’s voice went up about an octave and a half. “You’re okay with this? How could you be okay with this? Nobody should be okay with this!”

“Dude, calm down,” he waved at him dismissively. “I’m used to the whole, ‘I’ve killed people’ thing.”

“What?”

“My dad was a Marine,” he shrugged, and Wash felt some things begin to pop into place. “I know how to love and trust someone even when they’ve done bad things and hurt other people. I grew up with this shit, man. I can deal with your dark past, although I must say, it’s a lot darker than I would have expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, I always assumed that it was some illegal thing, but I thought maybe like an international drug ring or something, not a fucking murder squad.”

“It wasn’t--” Wash began to defend Project Freelancer, the way he had been trained to do, but he stopped himself. It was a murder squad, at least by the end of it. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah. It was pretty bad.”

“Mm,” Tucker agreed. “You’re alright though.”

“You’re alright, too.” Wash smiled at him. “So, now that we’ve got my past out of the way, any shockingly dark secrets you’d like to share?”

Tucker laughed. “Nothing as fucked up as yours, dude. Any secrets I have are gonna be boring in comparison.”

“Alright, then,” Wash thought to himself, wondering what he wanted to know about him. Tucker asked about Wash’s relationships, so Wash could ask about his, right? “Who have you been with?”

“You’re not gonna call me a slut if I tell you, are you?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not one for sex shaming.” Wash shoved him lightly in the shoulder.

Tucker grinned. “Just checking.” He leaned back and used his hands for support as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “I was with Sister last, we had a casual thing for a while.”

Wash wrinkled his nose, and kept his comments to himself. She was a loud girl who had a thing for parties and always thought Wash was a cop. They literally could not be in the same room without her accusing him of being of a cop, it was exhausting.

Tucker continued, either not noticing Wash’s reaction, or choosing to ignore it. “Grif and I dated for a while, like a year ago. It only lasted for about a week. Donut and I had a thing, too. It was more of a rebound thing after Doc left him, and now he’s in that queerplatonic relationship with Caboose, so that’s cool. Um… Oh, Church and I used to get drunk and have hate sex whenever Tex decided they weren’t a together anymore. She did that a lot. I think I actually might have slept with her too, once.”

He ran a hand over his dreads as he lost himself in thought, and then his eyes went wide and he laughed. “Holy shit, I did! Oh man I totally forgot about that. I can certainly see why Church keeps running back to her, but I guess he’s also got like, actual feelings and stuff for her. Who knew Church could have feelings.

“Oh, and there was this guy in a bookstore, and a girl at a bar. I’m probably missing some people,” Tucker shrugged, “like one night stands or whatever, but I mean, as far as people we know goes, that’s it.”

Wash nodded. “That’s an impressive list.”

Tucker snorted. “Fuck yeah, it is.” He opened his mouth to say something lewd probably, but instead he said, “Shit, dude, we need to get you out of the sun. You’re all red.”

“Fuck,” Wash muttered under his breath. Summer’s were always difficult with his overly sensitive skin. He could see that this year would be no different. He pushed himself to his feet, and offered Tucker a hand, which he laced his fingers through as soon as he was upright.

They began to walk in the direction of Wash’s apartment, making playful banter as they went. Tucker would swing their arms between them, and Wash would go with it. Even as the man became painfully aware of his sunburn, he was still all smiles the entire way home.

“So how do you even treat a sunburn, anyway?” Tucker asked as Wash unlocked his front door.

“Cold, damp towels and aloe vera.”

“That’s it?”

Wash shrugged. “I think so. It’s what I’ve always done, anyway.”

Tucker watched him walk to his bathroom and pull out a washcloth. As Wash turned the cold water on, Tucker pulled out his phone and googled ‘best ways to treat sunburn’.

“This website says you should put oatmeal on your face,” Tucker read. “Also cornstarch, fat free milk, and boiled lettuce. You probably have all of those things here, right?”

“Tucker, I’m not going to put oatmeal on myself.” Washington told him as he wrung out a cold washcloth and then gently pressed it to his face.

“I’ll put it on for you,” Tucker offered, trying to be helpful.

“You know what I meant.”

“Why not? It could help.”

“Tucker, trust me.” Wash’s voice was muffled through the towel he kept on his face. He managed to lean against the counter, and face Tucker anyway. “I’ve been getting sunburns since I was a baby. I know how to deal with them.”

“Alright, it’s your call.” Tucker put his phone back in his pocket. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Um, not yet. My arms and the back of my neck feel burned, are they red?”

Tucker came to stand right in front of Washington. “Turn around,” he told him. Wash did as much, and Tucker observed out loud, “Well your arms are definitely red. I can’t um, I can’t see the back of your neck too well, though. I think it’s red, but I mean, you’re kind of really fucking tall.”

Wash laughed at him, and Tucker kicked his shoe with his own. “Fuckwad,” he yelled at him, only making the blonde laugh harder. “Fuck you, it’s not my fault I’m short!”

“I know,” Wash managed through his laughter. He managed to calm himself down a little. “It’s just, you can’t see my neck. That’s hilarious.”

Tucker stood up straighter. “No, it’s not.”

Wash removed the washcloth from his face and put it back under the tap. “Yes, it is.”

He tried not pout as he crossed his arms and mumbled, “I hate you.” He decided that he hated him a little less when Washington wrapped him in a hug, and kissed the top of his head.

“So that oatmeal thing,” Wash began, the burning on his exposed skin only getting worse by the second. “It’s supposed to work?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, dude!” Tucker replied enthusiastically. Mostly he was excited to see his boyfriend covered in oatmeal, but yeah, the whole ‘helps sunburn’ thing was cool, too. “Are we doing this?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take a cold shower--”

“Bowchickabowwow.”

“--and then we can do the oatmeal thing.”

“Sweet!” Tucker fistbumped the air. “I’ll go get it started. I’m assuming it’ll probably have to cool, so take your time.”

“Will do.” Wash said as he ducked down to kiss Tucker. It was slow and intimate, and Wash’s heart flutter. They grinned at each other when they pulled away, and then Tucker nearly ran to the kitchen to start on the oatmeal. Wash’s smile grew wider as he turned on the shower and began to strip out of his clothes, replaying the day in his mind as he went through the motions.


End file.
